Suffocated Life
by disturbed-girl
Summary: Duo is injured and takes refuge in a church where he meets a priest who appears to be only a few years older than him. He begins to think about how different his life could’ve been. COMPLETE


Notes: This is a short fic I found in my files. I forgot I wrote it. I thought I might as well post it, so here it is. Reviews are always appreciated. Thanks!  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing, Duo Maxwell. Father Chris was created by me.  
  
SUFFOCATED LIFE  
  
Duo staggered down the unlit street, looking like a man who had taken to the bottle. He almost toppled over from the intense pain that was shooting through his entire body like electrical shocks. His eyes constantly scanned everything around him, studying the unfamiliar shadows that seemed to be closing in on him, like predators slowly coming in for the attack. His leg gave out, causing him to fall against one of the building's rough brick walls. With his shirtsleeve he wiped away the beads of sweat that gathered on his forehead. Using the building as a crutch, with his right arm against it, he continued to walk. His other arm applied pressure to his right leg, trying to prevent more blood from seeping out.  
  
The dim light that broke through the darkness a few buildings down caught his attention, and like a fly attracted to a lamp he went to it. He slowly made his way there, biting his lower lip with each painful step he took. When he reached the building he wasn't sure whether he should smile or frown. The footsteps he heard from behind him erased the thought and he quickly grabbed onto the building's door handle. Relief washed over him when he found the church door unlocked. .  
  
He opened the door a crack, poked his head inside and seeing no one, slipped into the building's dim candlelight and warmth. He closed the door and turned its large lock, keeping others from entering and sealing him in. To either side of the door were large delicate stain glass windows. They had let the light escape, but thankfully, they wouldn't allow others to see in.  
  
Duo leaned his back up against the door and looked down at his torn leg. "Damn it." He had been in the wrong place at the wrong time and had a hole the size of a gulf ball in his leg to prove it. Blood was spilling out of the wound like an overfilled glass. He had to bandage it with something quickly. He glanced around the church. It was simple, with a few rows of wooden pews and a plain alter in front of them all. Large candlesticks were scattered around the room, causing lights to eerily flicker and dance over the paintings of dead people that adorned the walls.  
  
"Alright, let's take a look around then." Duo spoke to himself to void the silence while he pushed off of the wooden door with his hands and step by slow painful step he moved to where a room appeared to come off of the main area. He grabbed one of the candles and looked into the room with it. The room held a few boxes in it, some labeled candles, holy water, or other items that he found useless. He moved the candle, causing wax to drip down on his hand, to spread its light on the other side of the room.  
  
"Here we go." A small smile came across his face as he grabbed one of the red curtains that hung beside a small window. "This will have ta do." Turning he left the room with the curtain. Placing his back against the wall he slid to the floor and quickly tore the fabric. He made a square pad out of it and placed it over the wound. He tore the rest of the fabric into long strips and used them to tightly wrap his leg. His eyes began to blur from the intense pain the pressure of the bandages caused. He hissed but continued to rhythmically wrap the wound, slowing the bleeding. When he was through he breathed heavily in and out while sweat trickled down the sides of his face.  
  
Leaning his head back against the wall he tried to control his breathing. The knife had gone in deep. He needed stitches, but he couldn't go anywhere for them, and there wasn't anything in the church that he could use in replacement of them. "Shit." He mumbled then moaned quietly. He closed his eyes as he tried to think of any options he had available.  
  
He jerked his head up as he felt himself begin to fade. "Damn it! I can't go to sleep." He was so tired though. His body and his mind begged for sleep. He was sure he could sleep for eternity. "No, gotta stay awake." He used the wall to help himself up. A wave of dizziness came over him causing him to slide back down to the floor. "Isn't this pathetic?" He rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. With a sigh he eased himself off of the floor again. This time he kept his back up against the wall, making sure he would stay standing.  
  
When he was positive that he wouldn't topple over, he pushed off of the wall and carefully made his way, unsteady as a child's first steps, towards the church's main door.  
  
"Hey! What are you doing in here?!" The voice from behind had Duo turning quickly, which resulted in him loosing his balance and falling to the ground. The man that had shouted reached him and heaved him off of the cold marble floor. Duo looked into a pair of steal green eyes, which belonged to a man who only appeared to be a few years older than him. When Duo's eyes scanned down a little further they widened when he saw the white collar.  
  
"Did you steal anything?" The young man asked impatiently. He released his hold on Duo's shirt. "How many times have I told you boys to come to me if you need something. It's a sin to steal." Duo held back the laugh that threatened to come out when the young priest pointed his index finger at him like a mother reprimanding a young child.  
  
"Uh, no. I, uh, didn't take anything." Duo managed to say before a wave of blackness and a slight tickling sensation, like walking through cobwebs, came over him.  
  
Surprised, the priest grabbed onto Duo's arms before he fell. For the first time he noticed how pale the boy was and saw the sweat trickling down the sides of his face. He lowered him to the ground and looked him over. When he saw the red rags tied around his one leg he carefully began to undo them.  
  
Duo's eyes fluttered back open. When he felt someone touching him he jumped back, smacking his head against a pew. He swore as he rubbed the back of his head gingerly.  
  
"Calm down, I just want to take a look at your leg." Duo shot his hand down to stop him. Surprised he looked at the boy. He noted the clothes for the first time. Who was this kid?  
  
"Leave it." Duo ordered as he used his hands against the floor to push himself away from the man. He grabbed a hold of the pew with one hand and used it to help hoist himself up.  
  
"You're obviously injured. Let me help." Duo held up his hand as a signal for him to stay back.  
  
"I'm fine." He took a few steps before another wave of blackness came over him. "Maybe I'm not." He quietly said as the priest caught him in his arms.  
  
-----------------------------  
  
The first thing Duo noticed when he awoke from the veil of darkness was the warmth. The next thing he noticed was the sharp pain in his leg. Not sure exactly where he was, he ignored it and tried to keep his heart rate and breathing slow. What the hell was going on? He felt a hand on him. Just like a snake striking its victim, he quickly grabbed a hold of it. He held onto the hand tightly, threatening to crush it. When he opened his eyes and saw the pained expression of the priest he immediately let go. He sat up in the bed he found himself in and backed away.  
  
The priest shook his hand limply. "Ow. Gees, talk about a death grip. Remind me never to play mercy with you." He smiled. Noticing that the boy, who seemed to be only a few years younger than himself, despite being so short and light, wasn't loosening up, he decided just to get to the point and before the kid ran out of the room. He looked like a cornered stray dog sitting on the bed.  
  
"I'm Father Chris. You became unconscious last night. Do you remember?" Duo played the nights events over in his mind then shook his head yes. "Good." He motioned to Duo's leg. "You've got quite an injury there. I was tempted to take you to the hospital, but then opted that it might be in your best interest that I didn't. I deal with a lot of kids going against the law, so I didn't want to accidentally turn you in or something." Duo began to let his guard down. Father Chris noticed his shoulders relaxing and inwardly sighed in relief. "Anyway, I took care of your wound as best I could. You should stay off of that leg for a while though."  
  
Duo cleared his throat. "Thanks." He pulled the covers off of himself, fought back the urge to shiver, and looked at his leg. The pieces of curtain he used had been replaced with clean fresh bandages. Father Chris had done a good job.  
  
He watched Duo examine his leg as inconspicuous as possible. He readied himself to stop him from leaving, which he was sure his next move would be.  
  
"Well, thanks." Duo looked at him quickly then turned away. "It's best I move on though." He began to ease himself off of the bed.  
  
"Don't be ridiculous." He moved and blocked the door. "You're bed ridden for at least a week." He read the shock in Duo's face easily. "Besides, I could use the company." He stepped towards Duo. "Now lay back down." He lightly pushed Duo's shoulders back towards the bed. Unsure of what to do, Duo obeyed and sat down.  
  
The two eyed each other. Father Chris was a tall slender built young man. He had piercing green eyes above a slightly crocked nose, obviously it had been broken before. His hair was loose brown curls that stopped just above the ears. He had a chiseled face that resembled the face of an ancient Greek statue. Duo couldn't believe that he was looking at a priest.  
  
Father Chris eyed the boy sitting on the bed. His long braid of brown hair was most unusual, but so was everything else about him. His cobalt blue eyes, which at the moment had bags under them, were a big contrast to his pale skin. His attire was odd, almost matching the priest uniform that he was wearing. But besides the way he looked, he could feel that there was something different about this boy.  
  
"So, what's your name?" Duo hesitated, debating if he should use a fake name or not and Father Chris noticed it.  
  
"Duo." Father Chris smiled, revealing slight dimples.  
  
"Well it's nice to meet you Duo. I'm sure you could use something to eat, I'll be back in a few minutes." He left the room, leaving the door open behind him, intentionally not wanting the boy to feel trapped.  
  
Duo remained seated on the bed. How the hell did this happen? He eyed the plain small room that was eerily familiar. Being in the church brought back too many memories, and unfortunately, the painful ones overtook the pleasant. He shook his head and closed his eyes, pushing it all back into the dark that he dared not enter. He laid back down on the bed, his weight sinking into the soft mattress and blankets. He couldn't get over how young Father Chris was. He couldn't be more than four years older than him.  
  
That could be me. I could be wearing that collar, a real one, not this white undershirt. I could have been a person of peace, not of war. He looked down at his hands. Life could've been so different. If Father Maxwell and Sister Helen had lived, I would most likely be a priest now. Sure I had my doubts in God, but for the short time I was with them, those doubts were disappearing. If anything I would have become a priest out of respect for them.  
  
But look at me now. I have no faith in God. I wear these clothes in denial, denial that I've lost everything Father and Sister taught me. I've become a murderer. I kill without hesitation. I'm such a monster that I don't even hesitate for a brief second before I take someone's life. He sighed. I've become what Father and Sister fought so hard against. I hope they were right about God and his existence. If they were right, then that means they're in heaven now, and I'll be delivered into hell, where I belong.  
  
Duo glanced around the plain room. His eyes focused on the old wooden cross that hung on the white wall across from him. He shook his head then threw his legs over the side of the bed and tore off the covers; he could feel the warmth being ripped away from him. Careful not to put weight on his right leg, he stood up and walked out of the room.  
  
I don't belong here anymore.  
  
When Father Chris entered the room with a bowl of steaming soup he wasn't completely surprised to see the vacant bed. He was disappointed though, he had hoped that the boy would stay for a little while. There was something about him, something in him that called out to him. He set the soup down on the small dresser across from the bed.  
  
Well, wherever you are, may God be there with you. 


End file.
